


you'll find a way, i'll be your light

by darlingjustdont



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, OT5 Friendship, Poetry, does it ever drive you crazy just how fast the night changes, idk - Freeform, kind of, one band one dream one direction, this is kind of wistful? i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-27 20:51:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5063659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darlingjustdont/pseuds/darlingjustdont
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em> they stop breathing for a wild moment and then it hits like a hurricane. they’re knocked over, overwhelmed with what they’ve been given. </em>
  <br/>
  <em>(spoiler: they’ve been given the world, given a chance, given a family so they don’t have to do this on their own. they just don’t know it yet.) </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>or, the folklore of one direction from start to finish. five boys that fall together and make each other home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you'll find a way, i'll be your light

**Author's Note:**

> alternate title: every single line from 'long live' by taylor swift. 
> 
> i'm not exactly sure what this is, but it's my "i've spent a year in this fandom" present to myself. it's a result of home and long live and pentatonix's new album. beta'd by the lovely katy. 
> 
> title taken from 1d's 'home'. 
> 
>  
> 
> [ [playlist]](https://play.spotify.com/user/darlingjustdont/playlist/3lRrhoga56ooOfmNCJ8Az6)
> 
>  
> 
> enjoy xx

**this is how it starts:**

five towns, five houses, five families, five boys.

one moment, gathered onto a stage with strangers on each side, tear tracks still on faces and a wild, wild hope in their chest. they’re already connected, arms looped over and around each other.

“we’ve decided to put you through to the judges.”

they stop breathing for a wild moment and then it hits like a hurricane. they’re knocked over, overwhelmed with what they’ve been given.

(

_spoiler:_

_they’ve been given the world, given a chance, given a family so they don’t have to do this on their own._

_they just don’t know it yet._

)  

**this is how it continues:**

they have seven days to become a band that’s good. they have to figure out where they fit with each other, how they curl up into each other’s spaces and fill in the empty places in their voices.

they don’t. they find out how they’re meant to be friends and maybe even brothers.

“do you believe in fate?” zayn asks one night, drowsy on a full belly and a cozy couch and a room full of love. his head’s in liam’s lap, his legs are in harry’s, niall’s leaning against his legs and his fingers are resting on louis’ shoulder.

liam plays with a little piece of his hair and zayn’s eyelids slip closed.

“maybe i do now.”

harry hums his agreement, tapping lightly on his shin.

“we’ve been so many places together, and didn’t meet,” says niall because they’ve overlapped over and over and it was just a matter of time.

“budge up, then,” louis says and makes zayn sit up. he crawls up onto the small couch and niall follows. they settle shoulder to shoulder. it’s a little crowded, but it’s so comfortable with the pressing weight of his boys surrounding him.

(

_already, they belong to each other. already, it’s almost as easy as breathing._

)

**this is how it triumphs:**

it’s almost as easy as breathing, except when it’s not. like when one boy pushes and the other pulls and they end up thin and jagged, snapping at their bandmate, friend, brother. sometimes, when liam won’t rest and harry won’t breathe and niall won’t settle, louis thinks it’s a wonder they don’t fall apart.

they make it through somehow, and keep going. they bounce back and re-knit themselves into something stronger.

“do you believe we’re soulmates?” harry asks him earnestly, practically sparkling. louis’ eyes widen because this is not the kind of conversation to have before singing for their future in front of an audience.

“harry…” he says as gently as possible. harry catches onto what louis is thinking and shakes his head.

“not, me and you. all of us. that we were meant to be friends?”

he’s never thought of that before. “i don’t know.”

harry nods, like it’s an acceptable answer, and maybe it is for him. they’re called out and they perform and as louis watches the little touches, the little encouragements they pass down the line, he supposes harry could be right.

(

_every moment has been bigger, greater, more impressive than the last. they’re not going anywhere just yet._

)

**this is how it crumbles:**

they smash it every time until they don’t. they’re the best until they aren’t. they manage to slip through unharmed until they can’t.

third place. well, it’s not first. but it’s not last either.

it  still feels crushing and they clutch at each other, a little lost. simon sweeps them offstage and into his dressing room almost immediately, their parents tagging along and looking just as lost.

and they’re given a lifeline again.

liam hears _“too talented to quit now”_ and _“sign you with my label”_ and _“you guys could make it big”_ but it slips through his mind.

the only thing that stays is together together we’re staying together. he’s not sure when these boys started meaning more to him than making it on his own, but somewhere along the way he stopped wanting to be solo.

he tucks his hand into zayn’s on one side and niall’s on the other, knows they’re all holding hands, that they’re all connected. as they should be.

(

_and later, they beg their parents to let them stay in one place for another night. they curl up together and cry and laugh and comfort, falling asleep all tangled together._

)

**this is how it explodes:**

harry is in love. harry is in love with it all. the lights and adrenaline and the boys and the sensation of stepping onto their own stage to the screams of their own fans.

he can ignore the parts he hates for the trade off, can handle being invaded by nosy interviews and persistent paps and curious fans, for the electricity that crackles through his veins when he sings.  

he fills himself up and empties it all out on stage and he. is. in. love.

album after album, tour after tour, and with his best friends in the entire world. the best concerts in the world. the best fans.

they’re writing their songs, they have the ability to make decisions, they have a force to change what they want.

they wake up in the night sometimes, unable to understand. they climb into someone’s bed and wakes him up, whispers “is this real?” the other nods sleepily and reassures. they fall back asleep, holding hands or backs pressed together, or heads on chests to hear heartbeats.

it’s grounding and harry’s glad, because he thinks he could be swept away. he never wants to give his boys up, nevernevernever. he knows they’re just to borrow, knows they’ll go one day, but for now they’re his.

he never stops being thankful.

(

_they are the champions of the world._

)

**this is how it settles:**

homesickness hits them one by one, and it makes them all feel guilty. they’re living the dream, they’re the champions of the world, and they just want to go home.

louis snaps and liam mopes and harry hugs and zayn sleeps.

niall laughs, and he can feel all of it sink into his skin, bury it in his bones.

it’s not a house they’re longing for, maybe not even their family so much. it’s the sense of normalcy, of routine, of having their feet stay in one place for longer than a week. it’s the suitcases upon suitcases that they pull their clothes out of, and the miles that they cross every night, and the deep desire to not be a stranger any more.

they were tactile before, but now it feels like they’re dependent on each other. like they don’t exist until skin is touching skin, brother is by brother.

their fights never last long, because while being with the boys is exhausting, being away from them is unfathomable.

and when he feels the cloud of homesickness fade away from the sun of louis’ smile, the heat of liam’s presence, the softness of zayn’s laughter, the serenity in harry’s voice, niall thinks that maybe--

just maybe--

they’ve built a safe place in their circle. built a home in their love.

(

_absence makes the heart grow fonder, absence makes the hands get twitchy and the ears ache for the voice of someone who understands. absence rarely happens to them, only enough to bring them running back._

)

**this is how it splinters:**

the eyes of the world constantly on you is a heavy weight. it grows heavier with every day.

four tours in four years is _hard_. zayn doesn’t have the strength to do it anymore, not even spread across the five of them. liam can’t overwhelm him with compliments every time there’s a remark, louis can’t fight every person that’s mean, harry can’t try to overcompensate for every shitty review, niall can’t smile enough to lighten all the tension.

he tells liam first, because liam will support him always. his eyes go sad and he nods to himself, which feels like a punch to zayn’s gut.

“whatever’s best for you, yeah?” liam manages to say, but his voice is shaking. he gets folded into a hug--the first of many--but it’s not as comforting with the flavour of goodbye behind it.

louis squares his jaw when he hears, and demands a band meeting.

“we’re going to vote,” he says firmly. “that’s what we do every time. this affects all of us, malik.”

“i’m going to leave either way.”

“no,” louis bites out, eyes steely like daggers. “we will vote.” he gets up and leaves without waiting for zayn’s reply.

niall understands, but he doesn’t let him out of eyesight all night. he’s touching him constantly somehow, trying to burn the feeling of zayn’s skin onto his own.

harry he leaves for last, because last time he said he was leaving harry cried for hours. it had only been a joke. he does the same when zayn tells him, curling himself into a ball and shaking. zayn wraps himself around him and strokes his back through the night.

later, they’ll say that he fell out of love with it, that his heart wasn’t in it any more. he didn’t want to leave his boys, but they were so tied up in the unhealthiness that he couldn’t separate them. at least not now.

distance, distance, distance. every step is ripping, but every step feels like it’s clean.

(

_five do not become four. five become four here and one there. zayn’s still theirs, he’s just not able to be with them now._

_five, no matter what everyone says._

)

**this is how it falls:**

zayn’s departure throws their exhaustion into sharp relief. they promised five albums, so that’s what they’ll give.

liam doesn’t think he’ll survive another world tour, none of them will.

they sit down, the five-minus-one of them and think about the future in ways they never have before.

can we still do this. should we still do this. how can everyone win.

none of them are willing to end it quite yet, but they need a break to keep from burning out. they love it and hate it at once, but liam can feel the hope of going home lighten his mood already.

everything is rearranged. they split up parts and wrestle their five piece arrangement into something for four. re-knit themselves together once again.

they throw out their half-finished songs for the fifth album. none of them can bear to sing what zayn was supposed to. none of them can even get the words out without a bitter taste in the back of the throat.

starting from scratch is cathartic, almost. liam’s able to put everything he’s thinking into words and lyrics, and while not even half make it out of the room, it helps.

the world reorients, but they’re still off balanced. they’ll always be, maybe.

they’re even more open with their thoughts, with their affection now. and sometimes, liam can feel an undercurrent of fear that someone else will leave. when they’re sniping at each other and it gets too much and tempers flare, they’re quickly dampened by wide eyes and breathed prayers that it’s not the last straw.

they manage. they start to win again.

(

_it feels like they’ve never gotten their breath back from that moment they all were pushed together, got caught into each other’s orbit._

)

**this is how it stutters:**

there’s a rush of adrenaline when louis sends the tweet. they all hold their breath and watch as it explodes.

_new song new song new song_

everyone panics and screams and harry can’t help but laugh as he watches the tweets roll in, watch the news be announced. this was the best way to do it, he thinks. a good single, a good way of saying “not leaving, we’re still here. still together.”

even now, five years later, there’s still that high when they watch the world fall in love with them over and over again. narcissistic, perhaps, but it feels like he’s flying.

they thrive on the attention, and harry most of all. they have to stop themselves from leaking the album themselves, so early, and draw it out until november.

but even that isn’t enough to stop the ache.

harry’s thankful for liam who talks about zayn so no one has to. they’re healing, on their way, but it’s a lot.

and now there’s the baby. harry watches as their oldest member grows up in the space of a day, because even though he’s the same little shit they love, he’s got responsibility now. more than before, more than the rest of them. he’s going to smash it.

liam dabbles in other places, writes and remixes and businesses. sophia’s been with them nearly the whole time and harry sees the set in liam’s shoulders around her. harry also knows where liam keeps the ring, waiting for the perfect moment.

niall goes home, he’s invested in it maybe the most of all of them. he connects with his old friends, makes new ones with the same lilt in their voices as he does. he keeps his friends and stays with them, unlike harry who likes new as much as he likes the old.

they’re all still tied together, still perform as a unit, still love each other, but harry quite feels like they’re wandering away. not in a bad way, in a gaining their independence way.

he just wants to pull them back and keep them close.

(

_“this is the way the band ends / this is the way the band ends / this is the way the band ends_

_not with a break_

_but a fracture.”_

_it’s good they’re healing._

)

**this is how it rises:**

louis gets the panic, he really does, but he’s getting tired of making the same promise. they’ve got no plans to disband. they need a breather. need a while to redefine their friendship without the famous aspect, rediscover who they are without the other fou-- _three_ in constant arm’s reach.

he submits his resume to the x-factor and his heart feels tight all week. he wants it, wants it so much. simon invites him to be a guest, to get the feel for it and he buzzes with excitement. it’s surreal, being there. it’s as if there’s an overlay; he keeps seeing himself as the contestants.

he walks away from the house with almost as much pride as he did the first time around.

they count down the days to the album in top ten singles, in events left, in anything they can. it always feels like the world is riding on the release, but this time it’s different. this time, they’ve got more to prove and more to promise.

louis wrote parts of his soul into this one, filled it with the heartbreak he couldn’t talk about. it’s a farewell of sorts-- to eleanor, to zayn, to the boys.

and finally, when it releases, they all breathe a sigh of relief and shut themselves away for the night.

they go to niall’s flat, cause it’s the cleanest. he makes them dinner and harry bakes cupcakes, and liam brings the wine, and louis the tablecloth he’s nicked from their tour supplies. they spread it out over niall’s sturdy wooden table and set it, bringing in the food and putting it on the table. the wine’s poured out into glasses and candles are lit and it’s adult and homey and--

louis loves his boys.

he raises his glass and the boys follow, watching him expectantly.

“lads-- and payno--” liam pulls a face, but it’s a loving one. “to the album and to our hiatus.”

“hear hear,” cheers niall. louis glares at him but niall just smiles and the glare fades away.

“to fun and food and friendship--”

“and family,” says harry and louis lets out a little sigh. he concedes the point and toasts the glass.

“and family.”

(

_made in the am. made in the aftermath of zayn’s departure and the shock and the reorientation._

_but they don’t say that out loud._

)

**this is how it pauses:**

they officially go on break and niall breathes for the first time in years. he’s got no band duties for twelve months, fifty two weeks, three hundred and sixty five days. it’s exhilarating. he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself.

on week three, day five, he texts his boys and asks them to come for a night. he’s feeling itchy and nervous without them around him.

they all come and crowd onto the couch. even zayn.

it’s like that week they spent together in harry’s house, but they’re broader now. they don’t fit as comfortably, even if niall’s couch is larger.

they don’t care and make themselves fit. he’s got harry’s elbow in his side and zayn’s knee in his thigh and liam’s hand stretched over to rest on his shoulder and louis spread over all four of them, wriggly and beaming.

harry wraps his fingers around louis’ ankle and brushes his thumb over the bone, slides his arm under niall’s. zayn leans into liam’s side and tangles niall’s hand with his. louis slides his hand into the mix but it works somehow. liam tickles the back of niall’s neck with a few fingers and it makes him shiver.

they’re not talking, just breathing together. smiling and basking in each others’ warmth. radiating love and soaking it in in return. mending cracks and strengthening bonds.

“we’ve come so far,” he finally says. all the four turn to look at him as one.

“yeah,” answers zayn easily as harry tucks his head into harry’s neck and liam pets at louis’ hair. “but we’re also exactly where we started.”

(

_home._

_they’re at home._

)

**this is how it starts again:**

(

_we will see. not yet, but we will._

_promise._

)

 

**Author's Note:**

> [ tumblr edit](http://deadattwentyone.tumblr.com/post/131798986444/youll-find-a-way-ill-be-your-light-no-ships)


End file.
